


Unusual

by kezya



Category: Once and Future King Series - T. H. White
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-18
Updated: 2006-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1637924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kezya/pseuds/kezya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place shortly after "The Queen of Air and Darkness". The Orkney brothers tell stories, argue and think about the unicorn hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unusual

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Eisoj5

 

 

Gawaine was ill. It had come as a surprise to everyone, not the least to him. He was one of those people to whom illness seemed to have no access; later, his health would stand him in good stead during all his years at the Round Table. Nevertheless, that miserable autumn he had come down with a painful cough and a fever serious enough to temporarily engage even the attention of Morgause. She had him put in a room with a real bed, gave him sweets, and then, delighted with herself for being such a doting mother, proceeded to forget all about him.

His brothers had moved in with him almost immediately - nobody had thought to inform them that they should not. They brought the straw and plaids from their room at the top of the turret and ate all the sweetmeats sent down by their mother. Gawaine was too ill to have an appetite, anyway, and the children of the Queen of Orkney went hungry almost as often as the children of any peasant.

Now, as the moist dusk seeped in through the grimy windows, the three younger boys curled up at the foot of the bed, listening as Gawaine told them the story. He was still far from well, but if it hadn't been him, then Agravaine would have wanted to tell it, being the second-oldest, and the other boys did not like what he did to it. Thus, Gawaine was telling the story, but the words did not come easily. Gareth thought that perhaps they never would again. There are some shades that times does not dispel, and, in spite of the months that had passed, the gentle shadow of the unicorn was in the air between them.

"So, my heroes," Gawaine was saying, "our granny and grandpa saddled their horses..."

"Steeds," said Gareth.

"Their prancing, small-headed, fleet-footed, fire-eyed..." supplied Gaheris.

"Fire-lipped," Gareth corrected.

"You say everything wrongly," Agravaine said snappishly, while Gawaine fought to smother a coughing fit. "I should be at telling the story."

"We could ask mammy to tell it to us," said Gareth.

"We could not, then. You are stupid."

"Could we?" Gaheris asked Gawaine, eager as always to know his eldest brother's opinion before he formed his own. But Gawaine was still coughing, and this time the question went unanswered.

"Mother will not tell us the story," said Agravaine, a strange note creeping into his voice. "She is too busy for us now."

The other boys pondered his statement in silence. Finally, Gaheris said, "She wants to call the baby Mordred. She was at telling father yesterday."

"I wonder what he will be like," said Gareth musingly; it had occurred to none of them that their new sibling might be a girl. (In truth, it had not occurred to Morgause, either. Some mothers may long for a daughter, but the Queen of Orkney would certainly not have welcomed a potential rival under her own roof.)

"He will be the youngest now. You will not be mammy's little baby anymore," said Agravaine with malice. In truth, it was unfair of him, since if there was one thing Morgause as a mother could not be accused of, it was picking favourites. She neglected all her children equally. But the peculiar feelings Agravaine harboured for her caused him to obsess over every reference - real or imagined - to what he privately thought of as her shame, and his character had grown steadily worse. He felt that Morgause was tormenting him, and he in turn was determined to take it out on Gareth.

"He shall be our family," declared Gawaine, although there was some doubt in his voice. "We must care for him whatever."

"So we must not, then. He will never be like us. His father is of the Mac Pendragon clan." Agravaine's face lit up, as an idea suddenly came to his mind. "I think we should drown him."

"Agravaine!" cried Gareth, horrified.

"We should drown him whatever. We could throw him in the well."

Gawaine said heavily, "You should like that, yes." Agravaine's face turned an ugly shade of red. He mumbled something unintelligible.

"This is all because of the gralloch. We should never have had the gralloch. It was my idea and I regret that I ever thought of it," said Gaheris. It was so rare of him to express an opinion of his own that the other boys stopped bickering and looked at him in silent surprise. He faltered, but held his ground, as the thought had lingered on his mind for many days now. "It is only that the unicorn was so pretty, and we spoilt it."

"It was beautiful," Gareth said hotly, "and we killed it!" He turned on Agravaine. "You killed it. Why did you kill the unicorn? It was so beautiful!"

"Shut up. It was just a stupid animal. And anyway, I do not think it was pretty. It was quite ugly."

For a moment it seemed that Gareth would attack him, for all that Agravaine was three years older and a good head taller. But then tears appeared in his eyes. "You are a murderer," he shouted, "and I hate you!" He jumped from the bed and ran out.

Agravaine shrugged and forced a smile, which ended up looking more like a grimace. Gaheris glanced at him and then, having reached a decision, got up and ran after Gareth, asking him to wait. His leaving wiped the stupid smile off Agravaine's face. He looked at Gawaine, half in defiance, half in desperation, and blanched to see the same condemnation in his elder brother's eyes.

"Will you not go, then?" Gawaine asked slowly. "I do not wish you here."

Agravaine recognised that Gawaine was too weak to try and force him out, and that made him bold. Gawaine's authority over him was based chiefly on physical strength; with that advantage gone, he fancied he had nothing to fear. "I will stay whatever," he said smugly. "You can throw me out, if you like."

Had Gawaine been more himself, this would have been a clear invitation for him to fly in a rage, but now he was too tired to muster up any true anger. "Sorrow take it!" he exclaimed in disgust. "Stay if you will, but I go!"

He heaved himself off the bed and took two uncertain steps in the direction of the door. Then it was as if the room had suddenly got darker; Gawaine swayed and would have fallen if Agravaine had not caught him.

For an interminable moment they stood there, frozen like a tableau. Gawaine was at a loss for words. He had always relied on his strength and it was the first time in his life that it had failed him so. Finally, he pushed Agravaine away, and, without looking at him, staggered back to the bed and pulled the plaids over his head.

Agravaine stayed in the room for some more time, looking at the unmoving bundle of blankets. He did not know whether he wanted to shake Gawaine and demand his forgiveness, or smother him with a pillow, so he did neither. He thought, not for the first time, that it was he who was truly the odd one out among his brothers, and he felt like crying, but, most unusually for him, the tears would not come.

 


End file.
